My openness to great ideas — to creativity — to inspiration that feels like a gift straight from the Creator Himself…is directly tied to whether I choose to live open or closed. It’s that simple. And that confronting. When I am open — truly open — I receive insight, clarity, solutions, imagination. I feel aligned. Creative. Connected. Ideas flow through me instead of feeling forced. But when I allow the weight of the world’s negative agreements — the criticism, the noise, the

Learning How to Keep the Inside Clean Lately, I’ve been sitting with a question I don’t have a polished answer to yet: How do we keep our souls clean and healthy? Trusting my intuition that I need to find out and spend time in this process until the deepest part of me feels settled enough to learn and then move steady as the lessons will continue to come.

This week reminded me—again—that growth isn’t a straight line. You can be doing the work, stripping away the old, layering in new rituals, and still feel the ups and downs as life keeps moving. Progress doesn’t always look like soaring. Sometimes it looks like noticing when you’ve drifted and gently steering back. I felt crowded these past few days—maybe it was the snow pressing in, maybe just the weight of winter—but my anxiety got louder than my calm. I kept asking myself,

For the past four years, my life has been shaped by caregiving—walking alongside my parents and my husband through seasons that required everything I had to give. Caregiving is holy work. It is love in action. But it is also exhausting in ways that are hard to put into words. When you give of yourself day after day, even for the best and most loving reasons, something inside you can begin to feel hollow. There’s an emptiness that forms—not because love was lacking, but becaus

Each day I step into our Unearthed Homestead storefront, I am reminded that this space is about so much more than what sits on the shelves. I am meeting our community one person at a time—sharing stories, exchanging smiles, holding space—and I find myself both deeply honored and deeply changed by these moments. As a small, Black-owned family business in a predominantly white space, I carry curiosity with me. Not fear. Curiosity about how showing up with intention, humil

Unearthed Homestead didn't start with shelves or signage. It began in quiet reflection, in listening, and in the decision to embrace the blessings that come from living out one's gifts and trusting in their worth. I've always aspired to a simple life. However, simplicity doesn't equate to being small or lacking; it means being intentional. It involves choosing to earn a living from things imbued with meaning, purpose, and heart. Unearthed Homestead offers items that hold valu

There is something that happens after you find peace. Not the fleeting kind, but the deep, settled peace that comes from doing the inner work—listening, healing, releasing. Once peace takes root, something else begins to grow: self-worth  and trust . And with those comes a quiet courage to step onto new ground, even when it feels unfamiliar. This week is an important one for us. Unearthed Homestead is opening its first storefront in our small town of Elkton, Virginia , and th

Healing is not quiet work. Even when it is done inwardly, gently, and with the purest intentions, it carries a ripple effect. One that reaches the people closest to us—sometimes before we are ready. One of the hardest parts of healing is learning how to choose yourself without feeling like you are imposing on those around you. You are not trying to disrupt, offend, or distance. You are simply trying to live in a way that finally works for you. Yet those closest to you will fe

For years, I spoke openly about wanting a different life. One led by peace. One shaped by simplicity. I said the words easily, confidently even, yet change remained just out of reach. Looking back now, I realize it wasn’t because peace was unavailable to me—it was because I wasn’t yet willing to choose it fully. Peace is such a small word, but it carries a powerful truth: it is a choice. Not a reward we earn someday, not something we stumble upon when life finally settles, bu

There’s a moment I keep having lately where I stop and think… Wait. Is this really my life? Not in a bragging way. Not in a “look what I did” way. More like standing in the middle of a room you used to only see in your imagination —and realizing you’re not visiting anymore. You live here now. It feels surreal. For so long, my dreams felt like something I could admire from a distance. Like pretty places I wasn’t sure I was allowed to enter. But somehow — slowly, quietly, faith

Tis the season. Not just for twinkling lights, full calendars, and the kind of busy that makes time blur — but for remembering who we are when we are centered. For choosing what we say yes to. For letting our spirit lead, instead of our pressure, fear, or habit. I’ve been thinking a lot about agreements lately. We make them every day — some loud and obvious, others barely whispered in the quiet of our thoughts. We agree to show up. We agree to shrink. We agree to settle. We a

Today I’m writing to my blog readers again because I feel called to share something real. For almost a year, I stepped out of the busy world and into myself—uninterrupted. I shed. I cried. I sat in meditation and prayer. I connected with like-minded people who understood the language of growth and healing. I even welcomed visits from my ancestors through dreams and travel, letting their presence guide me in quiet ways I can’t ignore. I walked firmly out of old agreements that

We don’t always realize it, but every day we are mastering something. Sometimes we master things that nourish us — patience, presence, compassion, resilience. And sometimes, without noticing, we master things that drain us — self-doubt, people-pleasing, fear, overthinking, survival mode. We become experts at the patterns we repeat, even the ones that hurt. And why? Because of the agreements we’ve made — knowingly or not. I am so aware now of agreements in my life, the ones I

A Moment of Surrender There’s a quiet, almost secret moment when life finally breathes with you, a moment that feels both profound and transformative. It's that delicate instant when all the pieces that once seemed stubborn, heavy, or unattainable start to align seamlessly, as if they had been waiting patiently for your agreement all along, ready to unfold into a beautiful tapestry of existence.

In my quite work of healing, I’ve discovered that I am both the wound and the healer. The next step is not in finding more love outside of me, but in releasing everyone I once made responsible for my deepest pain. For my breathe when I couldn't catch it, my heartbeat when it skipped, my peace when it was interrupted. I needed the Love for me to be stronger than the pain I was f

There comes a point in the healing journey when you realize: You are not waiting for change — you are the conduit for it. Through the steady practice of mindfulness and inner healing , transformation begins to happen quietly at first. Then one day, you notice — the way you speak, the way you touch, the way you listen — something sacred is flowing through you. The words that leave your lips are softer. Your actions are more intentional. Even the energy you bring into a room fe

Every day is a new journey. Not in the sweeping, cinematic sense—but in the quiet, often overlooked moments where we decide how to show up. We light the candle. We brew the tea. We whisper our intentions. And still, the old ways linger. We can be devoted to our new practices—rituals that nourish, habits that heal—but if we don’t tend to the soil of our mindset, those practices can become performative. We find ourselves walking the same well-worn path, even while holding a map

Last week, I was caught in a storm I didn’t see coming. It rose quietly, then crashed with a force that left me breathless, unsteady on my feet, the earth lightly shaking, with my heart skipping beats. I had just been moving through a new rhythm of caregiving, tending to my husband’s healing with steady hands knowing my soul was stretched thin, but feeling I had caught hold of a new pace and had steady hands again. Just as the storm threatened to swallow me whole, a lifeline

There’s been a quiet reckoning in my life—one that doesn’t announce itself with fireworks, but with the slow, deliberate peeling back of...

I see You Today, I am learning to lead differently. I create differently. I love differently. I communicate differently, heck I even...